


Survival

by buffydyke



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: And angst, M/M, This is just pure angst, and emotions, i wrote this in like 30 minutes tbh, it's just adam's thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 05:45:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6316948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buffydyke/pseuds/buffydyke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Hadn’t Adam Parrish always defended his choices? Gone with what his head told him to do? </i>
  <br/>
  <i>	His choice to sacrifice himself to the ley line. His choice to follow Gansey on his quests that most would brush off as senseless. His choice to leave home (could he even call it that?).</i>
  <br/>
  <i>	His choice to love Ronan Lynch."</i>
</p><p>Adam can't sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Survival

**Author's Note:**

> i'm like halfway through the dream thieves and i just had a lot of emotions tbh
> 
> (side note: writing as adam is p much like looking into a mirror lol why do i relate so much to this damn character)
> 
> this was written in literally thirty minutes with no beta while listening to sad indie music shhhhhh

The past was meant to be forgotten.

It wasn’t something meant to be dwelt on. It wasn’t something meant to be remembered. It was something that would swallow you whole if you let it.  
No one knew this better than Adam Parrish.

Funnily enough, this was one thing Adam never took his own advice on. Hadn’t he always defended his choices? Gone with what his head told him to do?  
His choice to sacrifice himself to the ley line. His choice to follow Gansey on his quests that most would brush off as senseless. His choice to leave home (could he even call it that?).

His choice to love Ronan Lynch.

This last one, perhaps, was the choice he defended the most.

The thing with Ronan was that he knew Adam better than anyone. Adam never let anyone in. Some days, he got so caught up in his head that it felt like he was drowning.

Life was a constant struggle of keeping his head above water.

There were times when Adam caught Ronan staring at him; a flick of a moment, a quick beat in time that could easily be overlooked. Adam wouldn’t let it go, though. As bad as Ronan was at expressing himself with words, his body language spoke for him.

Ronan had never been good at subtleness. These moments were always quiet, Ronan’s pensive gaze on Adam, brows locked in concentration. It was as if he were studying him, trying to put together the puzzle that was Adam Parrish.

Adam wasn’t sure that he could be put together. Or back together, if there was ever a time when the pieces had locked in a way he could have understood. Every time Adam thought he knew himself, something proved him wrong.

Maybe Ronan fit into that category. 

Still, there were times when Adam felt so bleak he wondered if any of this had been worth it. There were times when he could feel the past swallowing him, closing in on him. Choking him. There were times when his head felt so full and heavy that he wanted to punch something. There were times when he wanted to give in to the nightmare that never left his head.

The nightmare of being his father.

On these nights, when existing became particularly difficult, Adam would lie awake in bed. In the old days, he may have gotten up, busied himself with something that needed his attention. Homework, studying. Anything to keep his mind from wandering. 

Lately, these nights were too frequent to do that.

It was times like these where Adam wished he had a phone. It would’ve been so easy to send Ronan a message, ask him if he was awake. Adam knew it was pointless.

Like Adam, Ronan was always awake these days.

That’s how Adam found himself in the lot outside Monmouth Manufacturing. He sat propped on his bike, mulling over all the thoughts that ran through his head. His hands gripped tightly at the handles -- in the murky light of the streetlamps, Adam could see his knuckles white with tension. 

This had been a bad idea. 

Even if Adam was famous for making bad decisions, at least they had been ones he could defend. There was quite possibly no way Adam could justify being outside Monmouth Manufacturing this early in the morning.

He thought over explanations in his head.

_I can’t sleep._

_I can’t stop thinking._

_I don’t know what I want anymore._

The sun wasn’t even showing any signs of rising yet. 

It was easily 3 AM.

Justification or not, the light was on in Ronan’s room. Adam could see the dim, artificial glow from Ronan’s lamp streaking across his ceiling, across the window. Across the pavement below. That alone was enough to send Adam’s heart racing. His pulse thumping through his veins. 

He had a choice. One decision was considerably easier than the other. 

He could go inside. He could make his way into Ronan's room. From there, a thousand more choices would erupt.

Choices.

Decisions.

Chances to bring the pieces together.

Adam pushed off. He felt his legs beat against the pedals, the blood pulsing through every vein, every organ, every muscle. 

Yes, Adam had always defended his decisions.

He would defend going back to St. Agnes.

Life was meant for survival. Maybe, just maybe, surviving was better when he did it alone.


End file.
